This was her punishment. Fear and anxiety bundled her nerves. Together they crawled from deep in her belly to the bottom of her throat. This was the first time. Following …what she thought were his.. directions, she would just lightly place herself over him. She wasn’t sure how this was going to go. She thought this would be fine. In hindsight, he obviously enjoyed her naivety. That embarrassed her. It was part of her lesson.

He was quick, snatching her into a more off-balanced version. Off balanced for her. Perfectly balanced for him. His weight easily pinned her. Her arm was twisted and her wrist pinned to her back, causing her an instant amount of sharp pain that shot to her shoulder. That pain would have left her in shock had it not been followed by the intensity of the first blow. It sent a blast of ache through her body. Each strike shocked her as much as the last. She never had a moment to process before the next one.

It’s shaking me.

He’s shaking my world.

Literally.

She didn’t know how right she was.

There’s nothing to hold on to. He’s holding onto me.

The solid handling of her and the continued precise placements made the pain radiate. She was learning her lesson as the world continued to shake.

Her mind went blank, having been wiped clean from the dictation she’d been taking. Part of her was expecting something like this from him. Part of her was not.

She bumped her glasses up to keep them from slipping down her nose. It was a habit, and she did it whether they were slipping or not. He’d seen her start to do it even when she had her contacts in. He knew and enjoyed knowing some of her idiosyncrasies and tells. It excited him.

His words hung in the air. This was a big decision. His eyes never moved from her. The silence seemed like an eternity – for both of them.

She was being called out. By Him. Now.

He had made his decision. It was official. Their relationship as employer and employee was no longer as high on his list of priorities as his desire for her over his knee. On his desk. The boundary that they had both silently set was broken.

She’d fucked herself to the thought of this moment. This, between them, was …different.

I went on a date with a friend who had a small blue knife. He knew I liked knife play. I said that I liked knife play. What we both meant by knife play is that he would hold a knife to my throat and rape me. He wouldn’t have sex with me. He would be violent. He said that it would change me.

We sat in his car for a moment, gently flirting with the possibilities. He threatened to take me into the ally. I threatened to like it. I knew that it would have changed me. I wanted it to.

I used to be embarrassed about drooling. Regardless of what headspace I was in, as soon as I felt that string of saliva pool right under my bottom lip, I would begin to focus on curling it upwards. I was trying to control the inevitable strand that would spill over, slowly drip, and land haphazardly on the sheets or do a hit and run off my tits.

I knew that it would catch him by surprise, this nastiness oozing from my gaping mouth, involuntarily wetting my body. I know he saw it in the mirror; when he pulled my hair back; while he was fucking me. It was embarrassing. Please don’t let him notice.

I never said anything. I didn’t want to draw attention to it.

One night I was lost. It was different. New. Stronger. More of an Experience. Every touch and every word resonated off of every sting. Every sting made love to each command. Every strike was met with me wanting more. My energy fed off his. His energy fed off mine. His hands were roughly on my face and tangled in my hair.